


Like Fire

by icrieverytim



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 08:33:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4256556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icrieverytim/pseuds/icrieverytim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt didn't really feel pain when the bullet hit him. He felt relief, mostly. Relieved to be out of his agonising pain that bit away at his soul until he felt almost hollow.</p>
<p>He was happy too. As his eyes drifted closed memories flickered before his eyes and those memories were precious to him because if he was going to die at least he was going to remember something.</p>
<p>____</p>
<p>An account of Newt's somewhat short life-before the trials too.</p>
<p>Probably eventual smut and some sad scenes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. '...But your twat of a brother calls me Newt'

“Please, Tommy, Please”

Newt didn’t hear the bang nor did he feel the bullet-or at least not at first. He lay on the ground, his vision becoming white and he felt like he was floating.

The insanity drained the way rain stops after a downpour. Slowly but surely. That’s when he felt the pain, when he saw Thomas’s eyes on his, arms around him and tears on his cheeks. Unsure if they are his own or his Tommy's.

Then it all comes back to him, and he can’t help the small smile on his face as he slips out of it-floating and watching his life before his eyes.

***

“Isaac, honey, we have guests.”

The small blonde haired boy looked up from his sketch pad, his eyebrows furrowing. Guests? They don’t usually have guests. Due to The Flare visits are usually kept to a minimum in the Newton household-for the sake of their safety.

At first, Isaac does not reply, slipping out of the wooden chair slipped underneath his oak office table-a handmade present from his father. They had never been the richest family in the area-yet they managed to scrape by with Isaac’s father’s skills with woodwork and his mother’s sewing skills. They are always down at the local town centre every Sunday-selling their goods.

Whether it may be wooden bowls or dresses and mens shirts. Where they lived was mainly Flare free-so it was not t uncommon that people would go to the town centre. Sometimes-his mother would even give him a little of the money so he could buy something for himself. 

“Isaac!” His mother protests.

The six year old boy ran a hand over his face before running a hand through his hair. 

“Coming mother!” He calls, trotting down the creaky stairs.

Their living room was always homely, decorated with two worn looking leather sofas along with fluffy throws and a beige carpet with a few wooden things hanging from the walls which were part of his father’s work that his mother liked. They had a large bookcase-still with a large amount of room-that held his mothers novels and the books that Isaac was able to read at such a young age. There was a lamp too-sitting on the coffee table next to the seat where his mother always sits. They used to have a television but after a slight accident involving a large wooden chest of drawers, it was thrown out due to the large hole in the front and the inability to turn on.

Picture scattered the walls-all down to his mothers vintage camera-one of the possessions she still has from her childhood. They aren’t framed-just stuck up with bluetack.

Yet, sitting on the sofa he usually shares with his father are two people that Isaac doesn’t recognise.

“Isaac, this is Thomas.” His mother gestured towards the boy. “Would you like some tea, Ava?”

“Tea? Well, yes please. I take my tea black, two sugars thank you.” Ava smiled a large smile-her red painted lips turning up and her lips parting to reveal shiny white teeth.

Isaac observed her, taking her in. She had caramel blonde hair, scraped into a sleek bun and she wore a white blouse with a black pencil skirt along with tights and patent heels. Isaac’s mother never dressed like that.

She always wore her pretty brown curls down, so that they curled around her womanly breasts and she always wore comfy shirts and leggings or trousers with sneakers or slip on shoes.

She also never wore makeup. His father said it was one of the best things about her-that she was never fake and was always honest. She had honest eyes too-a dark brown that made Isaac think of the crisp leaves that decorate the local trees. Isaac had inherited her eyes and his fathers blonde hair.

“Isaac.” His mother sighs, patting the top of his head. “Why don’t you introduce yourself to Thomas?”

Isaac didn’t want to introduce himself to Thomas. He knew for certain he was posh and felt a little intimidated by the expensive looking jumper and jeans along with the lace up shoes and large glasses placed on his nose.

So Thomas stuck out his hand.

“Hi, I’m Thomas.” He smiled.

Isaac didn’t smile back. He shook the boys hand though, making eye contact with the boy. He had whiskey coloured eyes. 

“Isaac.” He said simply.

“Do you want to go play?” Thomas questioned him, his eyes brightening at the thought.

Isaac looked towards his mother for guidance but she was already diving into a conversation with Ava.

“We might see my sister-she’s gone out with the big girls.” Isaac states, sitting down on the floor.

“Who is your sister? I have two sisters and a brother!” He grins, prodding the blonde with his finger.

“Sonya.” Isaac grumbles irritably.

Isaac doesn’t like being touched. He never has. He doesn’t like affection at all-not unless it’s from his mother.

Sonya is eight, she’s a little older than Isaac and always shoves it in his face that she’s taller and knows more than he does. Always one to taunt.

“My sister Teresa is my twin-she’s at a friends. My other sister is Brenda, she is nine. Then my brother is a lot younger, he’s only one. He’s called Chuck.” Thomas explains, listing them off on his fingers.

Isaac nods, not really interested. He let’s Thomas do most of the talking.

 

~A Year Later~

Isaac sighs, a little frustrated. He’s completely bloody lost. Excuse his french, though he doesn’t really care if his mother heard him. She uses English cusses just as much as he does.

“Bloody hell.” He grimaces.

Despite acting so mature-he’s rather scared about being lost-his dark eyes are wide and he trembles with fear. He was supposed to meet Thomas an hour ago-where they usually meet. The boarded up art workshop.

Nobody really goes there any more-well. Nobody except them. They only recently started going there though-around a month ago and somehow Isaac has taken a wrong turn and has somehow ended up down an alleyway-shivering from fear.

His sister would know what to do, though she knows everything because she is always ‘older’ and ‘smarter’ than Isaac. In some cases, that can be true yet in other it is incorrect. Thanks to all the books his family owns, he is as smart as his nine year old sister-even though he is only seven.

Though Isaac always has acted mature for his age. It’s just the way he is. He buries his hands deep inside the pockets of his jeans, nibbling on his lower lip. Where does he go?

What if some crazy people find him, like his mother and father whisper about. How some cities and towns have become infected. How they are so lucky they moved to America to live in a smaller town-with less people in it. Less disease too thanks to the weekly inspections and guards that seem to linger about.

Eventually, he somehow finds his way and walks in through the back entrance. Thomas is there, sitting on the worktop, swinging his legs. He is accompanied by a girl. A really pretty one too, with long black hair in two braids and startling blue eyes the colour of the sea.

Thomas grins when he sees Isaac.

“Newt!” He calls, running over.

“I wish you’d stop calling me that!” Isaac protests, annoyed.

“But your last name is Newton, besides, you’re obsessed with all that science stuff and you’re practically named after a scientist right?” He tilts his head to one side.

That when Isaac notices the gap. “Tommy, when did you lose the tooth?”

“Last night, I wobbled it out with Teresa’s help.” He smirks proudly.

Isaac averts his gaze to the dark haired girl. Isaac has never been to Thomas’s house and quite frankly, he’s not sure if he wants to. Not with how posh the family is, and all the siblings would make him feel a little out of place.

So she must be Teresa. The girl gives him a warm smile which he briefly returns.

“Hi Teresa, I’m Isaac, but your twat of a brother calls me Newt.” He sticks out his hand.

“If your mother heard you cussing like that you’d get a clip around the ear.” Thomas chuckles a little.

The pair ignore him and Teresa shakes his hand, her eyes roaming his curiously.

“Okay...well, hi Newt. Tom talks about you a lot, it’s annoying actually.” She smirks at her brother.

“You’re more annoying!” He retorts.

They bicker like that for a few minutes whilst Isaac pulls off his bag pack and begins to unpack his sketchbooks. He’s lucky the workshop still has supplies-even after being closed and boarded up.

“What are you painting?” Thomas asks him, turning to look at him again, his previous argument completely forgotten.

“Green.” Isaac says simply.

“Why ‘green’ surely you have to paint something? Even if it is green?” Thomas pouts, confused.

Isaac sighs at his friends. “It’s called abstract, Tommy.”

“What’s abs-ah-tract mean?” He wrinkles his nose.

“Nevermind, just try not to talk too much, I need to concentrate.” Isaac shoots him a look.

“Is he always like this?” Teresa whispers.

“Yeah, I don’t think he’s ever actually been a kid like us, I think he just became an adult since he was born!” Thomas rambles, not really making much sense.

Later on, Thomas tells Teresa to walk ahead, as he is going to walk Isaac home. The sun is already setting and it is blended into hues of red, orange and pink. Isaac would love to paint it. He’s tried, before. He’s just never gotten it perfectly. Despite being a good artist, he is still young and his skills are limited.

It’s a goal though, set for the future. To be able to paint the sunset, perhaps one just like the one he is watching as he begins to walk with Thomas. 

“So do you like Teresa?” Thomas asks him, his whiskey eyes looking almost amber in the lighting.

“She’s okay.” Isaac shrugs, looking straight ahead.

“What does ‘okay’ mean?” Thomas questions.

“That she’s okay?” Isaac scowls, confused.

Thomas leaves it. He knows better than to argue with Isaac, after all, he is his only friend. He can’t really count Teresa.

“Are you coming out again tomorrow?” Thomas questions, a slight bounce in his step at the thought of all the adventures they could go on.

“Can’t. It’s a Sunday. It’s market day.” Isaac vaguely explains.

Thomas understands though-he knows Isaac’s family isn’t as well off as his own and that a sacrifice Isaac has to make is that he has to give up his sundays.

“How about Monday?” Thomas pushes.

“School with mother.” Isaac finally looks at him. “In fact, I am working all this week. It only ends at four, because mother has to sew.”

“You’re always at ‘school’ it’s barely even a school! It’s just a table in a room!” Thomas protests.

“It’s also why I am almost as intelligent as my nine year old sister. We learn together.” Isaac frowns, feeling a little defensive.

Isaac enjoys school. Well, it’s not exactly a school but from nine until four every day he learns things. New things. He enjoys learning-though his sister sometimes begs to differ. Especially when it comes to Maths. She isn’t the greatest at maths. His mother sometimes has to give Isaac the harder questions in Maths.

“I wish I could learn. My mother only teaches me when she can-she’s always working.” Thomas complains.

“If you want, I can ask my mother if you can learn with us, though you’ll probably be behind for a little while.” Isaac smiles, an attempt to cheer up his friend.

“That would be cool!” He grins at his friend.

Cool is one word for it, ‘disastrous’ may be another. Isaac liked that word. It was a big word, and he was able to use it because he knew what it meant. Thomas should probably have been the definition in that dictionary his mother owns.


	2. 'Are you proud yet?'

Isaac watches as his mother talks to Thomas’s. He sits at the breakfast table, spooning porridge into his mouth. His mother looked almost happy to see their usual visitor there. He supposed that perhaps they were starting to become rather close-after all he was close to Thomas.

It’s been a week and it’s been finalised. Thomas is going to start school. Along with Teresa and Brenda. 

It had been arranged that Ava would pay his mother money for each lesson-extra for the exams they take. It was a good plan really, his mother praised him for it, because now they wouldn’t go to bed still feeling a tiny bit hungry. Nor would they ever open the bread bin again to find mouldy bread. Isaac was excited too-he'd be able to learn with his friends. That made it even more fun!

The first lesson of the day was English. One of Isaac’s favourite subjects. Whilst his mother practised writing and speech with the other three children, himself and Sonya read.

His mother had made the plan that every time they finish a book, they have to do an essay on it that will be marked upon their speech, punctuation and uses of nouns, pronouns and similar things. Sometimes they were given a small check list of word types they have learned recently and in the past they have to attempt to use. Other times it was upon free will and creativity. Isaac liked it a lot when it was free writing because he tended to get a little bit carried away when trying to explain his point. 

Isaac was lost in the words, his head spinning with them. He was always excited when he started a new book, and was always sad when he finished one. It was a constant circle-there was no end. The characters became his friends and he lived a life through that characters eyes-he faced their fears with them and he held their hand through tough times. He was always beaming when they achieved a goal. 

Thomas frowned a little at the word on the page.

“Now I’m going to cover it up, and you have to spell it from memory.” Isaac’s mother smiles gently.

Thomas struggled with English at first but by the time the hour was up, he understood it better and was almost excited to find out what they would be learning next. Thomas wasn't exactly one to give up too easily. He was too stubborn for that.

To his dismay, it was something his mother had taught him quite a lot. Science. He was quite proud when they all got fairly hard work and he was working at the same level as ten year old Brenda.

Science had always been something Thomas was a natural at. He was as natural at it as Isaac was at art. Though, Isaac too, was good at Science too and owned a few books on the subject-however Isaac said he had been learning since he was three-only the very basic things of course.

They had to label organs, body parts, and signs of The Flare-in case they ever thought they had caught it or thought someone else had. Thomas got everything right-also adding in a few extra facts.

“Okay, guys! That’s two hours of work done, would you all like something to drink?” Isaac’s mother grins at the children.

They all let out sounds of agreement and she set to work in filling up glasses with orange juice.

“Is school usually this hard?” Thomas murmurs to Isaac.

“Always. Worth it though. You seem good at Science.” Isaac peers at the boy curiously, as if the roles had been reversed.

“Yeah, it’s something my mom always taught me.” Thomas nods. “She’s real good. I think her job has something to do with Science.”

Isaac nods, deciding not to push the subject due to the slightly annoyed look on Tommy’s face.

~~~

“Newt! Look!” Thomas thrust his test paper under Isaac’s nose. “Thirty out of forty marks! Are you proud yet?” 

Isaac chuckles, pulling the smaller boy in for a hug.

“Congrats, Tommy.” He grins.

“I’ll be doing harder work now, Teresa’s a bit miffed as she only got twenty five out of forty. She has to stay doing the same level of work as Brenda. I also bought a book the other day! I can read by myself now.” Thomas tugs on Isaac’s arm, eyes sparkling with happiness.

“Say, Tommy, shall we go play?” Isaac proposes.

It was Isaac’s kind way of celebrating Thomas’s grade. Usually, he’s not one for playing games-like he said when they first met.

He barely had time to register what was happening before he was being pulled along into a game of tag.

Isaac couldn’t remember the last time he laughed so hard, it’s because he let Thomas in. They were always friends, but somehow Thomas had found himself upgraded in Isaac’s books. He became Isaac’s best friend.

That made Isaac pretty happy as he'd never really had a true best friend.

“You can’t catch me!” Thomas hollers, sprinting away.

“Slow down, Tommy!” Isaac yells, chasing after the boy.

Thomas is a rather quick runner. Though Isaac always knew that. Somehow, he managed to become the fastest runner in their small class.

When he finally catches the boy they are both breathless, lying on the floor and panting. 

“Let’s go get something to eat.” Thomas sits up.

Isaac’s eyes widen, when he thinks about the amount of money currently in his pockets. He had a few coins that were almost worthless...there was no way he would be able to afford anything.

“Maybe not today, Tommy. Mother wants me home early.” Isaac lies, avoiding the whiskey eyed boy staring right at him.

“Well, don’t forget Chuck’s second birthday tomorrow, Saturday evening at our place at four. Don’t forget! Teresa and I are looking forward to seeing you there.” Thomas pretends to be well spoken, wiggling his eyebrows. “Your mother is invited too, of course. Along with your father, if he wants to come.”

Isaac just nods. “Okay.”

~~~

Later on that evening, Isaac sat on the sofa with his sketchpad. He drew his mother. She sat on the sofa opposite, a needle in one hand, a dress in the other. She was adding the last touches. It’s supposed to be an evening dress-it was ordered too. They would be given a decent sum of money towards it.

Isaac was sipping lemonade. Real lemonade! His mothers teaching was helping them financially. When he came home, his mother had laid a new outfit on his bed. Shop bought as well.

A blue shirt with rolled up sleeves and denim jeans with pockets. There was even a new pair of shoes! Leather, and lace ups. They were a little big, yet he could tell that was deliberate so that they would last longer.

He was looking forward to wearing the outfit to Chuck’s birthday the following day. His mother briefly looks up from her sewing.

“Did Thomas show you his exam results?” She asks.

Isaac nods, silently urging her to stay still so he can draw the lines around her mouth.

Isaac’s father ruffles the younger boys hair.

“You’re a good influence on others, Isaac. A brain like yours is pretty rare. So young, so very mature and extremely skilled.” He peers over his shoulder at the drawing on the page. 

Isaac flushed a little at the attention. “Father, are you coming to Chuck’s birthday tomorrow?”

Isaac’s father sighs. “Sorry, but I can’t make it, son. I’ll be working again.”

Isaac tries to not let the disappointment show. “Oh okay. It’s just that Tommy and Teresa haven’t met you yet.”

“Well, I’m sure they will at some point.” His father states, turning back to the book he is reading.

He enjoyed dinner, despite the feeling of sadness that his father wouldn’t be there tomorrow. They had canned stew with potatoes. Isaac’s favourite. He ate it slowly, savouring the taste.

“Your mother tells me you are almost as good as Sonya with your classwork.” His father speaks up.

Isaac shrugs a little, eyes turning down to his stew.

“Where is Sonya anyway?” He frowns.

“In her room, she’s practising textiles.” His mother quickly says. 

Isaac knew something had happened, he was just too young to get it.

~~~

Chuck’s birthday was quite loud-with numerous family members turning up. A lot of people, Isaac had never met before.

Thomas grabbed his arm as soon as he walked into their big house-but Isaac couldn’t help but peer over his shoulder at the pristine white walls with golden framed pictures of family photos with his siblings. 

The floor he stood on in the hall was polished wood-gleaming in the lighting. Isaac worried that he might tread mud onto the floor. 

“Did you bring Chuck a present?” He asks.

“Yes, my mother sewed him a new pair of socks.” Isaac nods.

Isaac didn’t complain when Thomas dragged him through to the kitchen-deserting his mother. Though, he doubted she’d have much trouble making friends. She was quite the sociable type.

“This is cousin Harriet.” Thomas points towards a dark skinned woman, her frizzy hair scraped into a bun.

She bent down to smile at the small boy. “Hello!”

Isaac hesitantly returned the smile. “Hi...I’m Isaac.”

A dark skinned boy joined her, clutching at her hip.

“That’s Alby-my other cousin.” Thomas explains.

Alby briefly introduces himself before wandering off, exploring Thomas’s house.

He didn’t really have time to say anything else to Harriet before he was being pulled away and dragged over to another family member.

“This is Winston-we don’t really talk that much though. He lives on the outskirts of town so I don’t see him much.” He murmurs, pointing to a short boy with dark hair and wild eyes. “That’s his brother, Ben. They are my other set of cousins.”

Winston seemed a little older-maybe Sonya or Brenda’s age. Ben was younger though, possibly their age. Neither smiled at the pair.

“I don’t think they like me very much.” Isaac states bluntly.

“No, they are always like that.” Thomas shrugs. “I don’t know why.”

Isaac enjoyed the food they had set out-so did his mother. He thought it was good for her to get out the house-she was talking to other females around her age. Laughing, having a good time.

The cake was rather boyish too, a rather large one to cater for all the guests with blue icing. Isaac was almost disappointed when it was over and he walked home with his mother.


	3. 'Boys have cooties!'

Isaac was excited when he turned eight. He was proud to be a little older than Thomas-even if it only was a week. 

He made his way to the art workshop briskly, ready to show Thomas what he had been given for his birthday-along with the marvellous bruise that had formed after their playfight the night before.

Thomas was there-thankfully alone. Despite Teresa being Thomas’s twin and one of Newt’s best friends-he wanted some boy time with Thomas.

“Hey Tommy!” He yelled out when he walked in.

“Happy birthday Newt!” Thomas calls, doing jazz hands.

The boy had paint in his hair, a smear of glitter on his cheek and what appears to be glue all over his shirt.

Yet Isaac broke out into a grin when he saw the present Thomas had made him. Laying on the worksurface was a large book. Almost as big as the length of Isaac’s arm. It was decorated in paint, glitter, pen and silly little doodles that Isaac couldn’t even figure out what they were supposed to be.

“It’s a scrapbook! Along with a camera! It’s probably not very good-I rescued it from my mother’s trash pile but it still works! Look all you do is take a pictures and it prints straight away! Apparently they are really, really, really old!” Thomas throws his hands out wide.

Isaac felt warm all over. He felt very, very happy that his best friend would do such a gesture for him.

“Come on then you bloody idiot. The first picture should be of us!” Isaac walks over, inspecting the camera.

It was better quality than his mothers. He knew that Thomas was lying when he said it was really old. In fact, it looked recently bought. Isaac would always moan if Thomas bought him something expensive for his birthday, or Christmas because he would never be able to return the favour.

Thomas pulled a silly face, sticking out his tongue and Isaac replicated the expression, looking into the camera lens. When the photo slid out the bottom he chuckled.

“You can take photos of us all the time! It’s a big book you know, it should last for YEARS!” Thomas pranced around, throwing little bits of glitter like confetti. 

Isaac stuck the photo down on the first page. He was planning to add not just photos, but scraps of things he found interesting or with his friends. Thomas and Teresa. They were a trio and Isaac wanted it to stay that way.

Preferably, for a long amount of time.

“Oh, Teresa is coming in a little while. She bought you something too.” Thomas says, knocking Isaac out of his trance.

They messed around for a few hours, creating silly paper crowns out of card and acting like they were kings of the place. When Teresa turned up-she came bearing cartons of juice and a messily wrapped present that was a set of colouring crayons.

“Happy birthday Newt!” She exclaimed, pulling the taller blonde in for a hug.

Newt was practically suffocating from the close embrace, choking in her girly scent of vanilla.

“Newtie and Teresa sitting in a tree-” Thomas began and Teresa pulled away from the hug, giving her brother a glare.

“Ew! No! Boys have cooties!” She pouts. “Especially boys called Thomas!”

Thomas let out a squeal and chased after his sister as they ran around the art workshop, chasing each other. Soon after Isaac joined in, chasing after the cheeky duo as they pratted about-hiding behind canvases and chests of dusty drawers.

~~~  
“Now, all you have to do is run. It won’t be that bad!” Isaac’s mother sighs.

“I don’t like running!” Brenda complains, grumpily folding her arms across her chest.

“Well I do, so stuff it Brenda.” Thomas giggles.

“Thomas!” Isaac’s mother scolds but Thomas doesn’t seem too affected-Isaac’s mother favours him too much.

They start at the makeshift starting line-in the middle of the dry field. The finish line is also marked out-around fifty meters away. Thomas prepared himself, ready to sprint. Then they ran.

Thomas was off like a bullet, Isaac noted. He ran like his life depended on it and Isaac had to try his hardest to catch up with him. A little behind was Sonya, hot on their heels. A space back was Teresa followed by Brenda who clearly has never been the greatest runner.

She’s always been a lot better at sports. Things like tennis or cricket. They didn’t do much of sports though, it’s mainly been racing and keeping in shape. She usually came first in tennis, followed by Teresa, then Sonya, then Thomas and then Newt. Newt purely hated tennis. There was once a time when he got a black eye, when he was seven. Sonya had swung the racket wrong and it had smacked him square in the face.

Thomas reached the finish line first, only by a fraction. Followed by Newt and then Sonya. Teresa stumbled a little at the finish line, clutching her knees when she crossed. She was red in the face. Brenda clearly gave up halfway through as she walked to the finish line-looking slightly frustrated.

“Well done Tommy! You beat me!” Isaac high fived his friend.

“First time so far, we always tie.” Thomas cheers himself, letting out a ‘whoop’.

“How...can...you run...so fast?” Teresa asks between pants, her black hair falling out of her singular braid down her back.

She recently got it cut, around a week ago. A few weeks after her and Thomas’s birthday that was celebrated over ice cream in the art workshop and gifts from Isaac to the both of them. A pretty blue checked dress with a matching sash that seems to compliment the colour of her eyes-made by his mother.She did seem to wear that dress quite often.

He got Thomas a book on Chemistry-he even spent his weekly money on it that his mother gives him. Seeing as Thomas enjoys Science so much along with a wooden toy car that he helped his father make.

He was quite proud of the gifts he got his two best friends. They enjoyed them a lot too.

“Fast? Maybe you’re just a slowpoke!” Thomas taunts.

“Don’t be mean, Tommy.” Isaac warns.

“Newt! You usually take my side.” Thomas shoves him playfully.

“I took a change of scenery.” Isaac wrinkles his nose.

“What does that mean?” Teresa asks, confused.

“Never mind.” Isaac sighs.

He sometimes forgot he was more articulate with his words.

“Either way, I beat you! I am the king!” Thomas threw his hands up in the air.

Isaac didn’t protest, he let his friend feel excited that he beat Isaac for once. They spent most of the afternoon outside, observing the effects of the Sun Flares. How land is scorched and the mud is dry. They take notes, observations. 

However, Isaac’s mother let’s them go free for an hour. An hour of fun, running and feeling free without the watchful eye of guards.

Even Sonya and Brenda join in the fun-the pair that usually branch off by themselves.

“Who’s counting then?” Sonya asks, blinking.

“I don’t mind counting.” Teresa giggles. “Besides, I’ve got some good secret hiding place ideas for when it’s MY turn.”

“Tell me!” Thomas begs.

“No way! Then it wouldn’t be a secret!” Teresa taps her nose before placing her small hands over her eyes and begins to count.

Isaac was logical-unlike the others who were scrambling about he scaled a dead tree, towards the top where Teresa wouldn’t look. He’d have to hold on tight though-otherwise he might end up falling out and that would NOT end well at all.

Broken bones weren’t exactly on his to-do list.

“Ready or not here I come!” He hears Teresa yell.

Thomas was the first to be found. He hid behind some overgrown dried out grass that Teresa spotted after a few moments. Then it was Sonya. Brenda. Isaac was the last person they would find.

Isaac almost drummed his fingers against the trunk. They were coming. He could hear their voices.

“Where would he go?” Thomas pouts.

“I don’t know! It’s Isaac he could be anywhere.” He hears Sonya huff.

“There he is!” Brenda points up into the tree, where Isaac’s legs were dangling over the edge. 

Isaac clambered down, palms scraping against the bark of the tree a little but it didn’t seem to bother him much. Trivial things like that never seemed to. 

“Newt! How did you get up THERE?” Thomas asked, in awe.

“I climbed.”

~~~

Isaac buried his face in his pillow, trying to ignore the shouting downstairs. It hurt his ears and his mother still hadn’t come upstairs to give him a kiss goodnight. He could rarely get to sleep without a goodnight kiss. It soothed him. If it wasn’t from his mother, then he’d always crawl into Sonya’s room to get one from her. She understood.

She always had to be tucked in. If their mother couldn’t do it for her, then Isaac would. It worked for both of them, they just never mentioned it to anyone. It was their way of comfort. 

However, in these past few weeks the arguments have become an almost daily thing-meaning the duo have to go to each other for comfort. Isaac didn’t really know what was happening-though he doubted Sonya knew either. They used to only happen once or twice a month and they would always make up and his father would come home from work the next day with flowers even when he couldn’t really spare the money.  
Isaac didn’t know what had triggered it, he just knew it started around a fortnight ago, after Ava had visited the house. All the children had been sent outside to play, even little Chuck. Now all they ever do is argue.

Isaac flinched as he heard a crashing sound. It sounded like pottery. Grabbing his blanket and pillow, he trailed to his sisters room. He didn’t think she would be awake.

She wasn’t. She was sitting on her bed with her lamp turned on with her legs curled underneath her. Her blanket was draped around her petite shoulders and she barely looked up when Isaac walked in.

“I can’t sleep.” Isaac pouts, on the verge of tears. “They won’t stop shouting.”

Sonya put down her book. “I wasn’t tucked in.”

Isaac grabs the blankets by her feet, pulling them up to her chin and tucking them in at the sides of the mattress. Sonya grabbed her battered old teddy bear and hugged him close.

She kissed her brother lightly on the cheek, his comfort. It didn’t feel the same as his mothers kiss but it sufficed. He slept on the ground next to her bed because he knew that if he woke up again the in early hours of the morning-at least Sonya would be there.

He didn’t wake up in the early hours of the morning. He woke up to his mother opening the door, looking slightly relieved to see her son in Sonya’s room.

“Wakey wakey rise and shine.” She pulled back Isaac’s sheets, kissing both of his cheeks and ruffling his hair. “Ava will be here in a little while to drop off the others. You better have a quick bath you’re starting to stink!”

She pulled a silly face, holding her nose and wiggling her eyebrows but Isaac didn’t laugh, nor did Sonya. 

“Sonya, get changed and come downstairs, you can help me with breakfast. Isaac, the hot water is already in the tub. Scrub well!” She winks, flaunting off.

Isaac wasn’t in the mood to be totally cheerful, he was in a sour mood. He wasn’t happy at all. Perhaps it was because Chuck’s birthday was today and his mother had arranged a gift to give to Ava at the door and she was trying to be cheerful, or maybe it was trying to say sorry for the shouting that kept the pair awake for a while the night before.

Isaac felt as sour as the horrible sweets Teresa once gave him that made him throw up all over Ava’s fluffy white carpets. She wasn’t happy about that.

Isaac stripped off, sliding into the tub and scrubbed his skin clean. There was always some dirt on his skin or a few cuts and bruises however it never really bothered him. This time it was skinned knees-from falling over when he played tag with Brenda, Sonya, Thomas and Teresa. Chuck was at the age where he wanted to join in-being almost three but whenever he played they always had to be careful. Or at least slow down a little so it was possible for them to actually be caught by him. Anyway, he’d managed to fall over a stone lodged upwards out of the ground. It was fairly big too, perhaps the size of his fathers foot. 

Originally he’d had plasters on them, yet they had fallen off and he had no clue where they were. He’d even had to have been tested a few days earlier than the weekly checkup for The Flare, just in case.

He was clean.

He winced as the soap got into the small creases of the cuts but let out a small sigh as they were relieved. Isaac’s hair always got a shade or two lighter after washing. From dirty or caramel blonde to a golden colour. His mother loved his hair. She said it reminded her of the sun, or a golden sunset. 

He dried off with a slightly grimy towel and changed into a black button up shirt and denim jeans along with his regular boots he had already nearly grown out of.

When he sat at the table, his mother placed a plate of toast in front of him.

“Where is father?” He asked croakily.

“He headed to work early today.” She brushes it off, humming as she makes the last adjustments to the present.

She’d worked hard on it, a little fluffy coat. Ava always praised his mother’s sewing skills.

Isaac frowned. He missed seeing his dad without an angry glare. He didn’t say that aloud though, he didn’t dare to and his mother was momentarily distracted by the ringing of the doorbell.


End file.
